Circumstance
by Doe Eyed Dreamer
Summary: Dying in a house fire was bad. Waking up in the middle of an icy wasteland was worse. Being poked repeatedly in the head with a stick is where I draw the line. Semi-insert. Pure madness.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: I basically wrote this for shits and giggles &amp; as a break from my stories I am more invested in. That being said, don't take this too seriously—because it's not meant to be. It will probally be random, humorous, and a tad cliche, but just sit back and enjoy the ride.**

** I know I will ;)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ATLA. If I did I wouldn't be here now would I?**

* * *

It was all fairly simple really.

I saw the old man enter the shrine.

I watched it burst into flames.

I stupidly charged in after him.

Perhaps it was the knowing smile he'd given me mere moments before. I wasn't one to make a habit of endangering myself for complete strangers, that's for sure.

I was reasonable. Reliable. Predictable.

So how did I find myself in a burning building dying an excruciating death that didn't even have to happen?

As I stated before, it was simple.

I wanted to know what he _knew_. What that small, barely perceptible smile was all about.

Curiosity killed the cat, it was a phrase I was all too familiar with, and something I'd spent my entire life desperately avoiding—becoming the cat.

Fortunately for me the cat did indeed have nine lives—_though I was pretty sure I used up eight of them_—and I was spared, but not in the way you would expect.

It was pretty exciting I guess, if not a bit exhausting, and tale I've told so many times I've lost count.

But I suppose you'll want to hear it anyway right?

**Sigh**.

Might as well get comfortable, this will definitely take a while.

* * *

**a/n: I will probally only be updating this sporadically, but if a lot of people end up liking it I might end up updating regularly, who knows. So what do you guys think? Already cliche? Terrible? Let me know :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: wow eleven favorites already? I am honored! Hopefully you all stay interested. This chapter basically explains how my OC ended up in the Avatar realm so let me know what you think.**

**Disclaimer:I don't own ATLA. Really. I don't.**

**Enjoy!**

**(I apologize to you who have already seen this chapter, there were some formatting issues)**

* * *

"Now sweetie, remember to be on your best behavior." Mom babbled as she attempted to fix her hair, straighten her skirt, and amplify her scandalous cleavage all at once. "Westley is a respected historian, and I don't want his colleagues to think badly of us."

As she said this, one of her fake eyelashes slipped off, and she swore beneath her breath, grappling for it as if it were her life-line.

It would have been amusing if I hadn't witnessed the exact scene countless times before.

You see, my mother is what one would call a 'recreational-dater'. Hell, and even _that_ was putting it lightly.

The woman went through men faster than flies through cow manure.

"Okay!" She exclaimed, finally righting the false eyelash—or, er, at least she _thought_ she did. It was still rather lopsided.

Not that I bothered mentioning this to her. Not only would she lock herself away in the bathroom for an additional forty minutes, but it wasn't as if the man would last longer than a month anyway.

And trust me, they never _will_.

"Off we go!" She declared, fluffing black hair and heading for the door with purpose—only to suddenly halt all movement. Her hand had slipped into her overly-expensive purse, grappling around only to return empty. She shot me a furtive glance over her shoulder, ruby lips stretched sheepishly.

I leveled her with a knowing stare, already knowing where this was headed.

"Neely?" She inquired in a child-like manner. Her brown eyes were wide and hopeful, "You wouldn't happen to know where I put the car keys would you?"

I rolled my eyes.

_Didn't I always?_

_Some_one had to after all.

"They're in your back coat pocket." I pointed out mildly.

Her eyes widened further.

"Oh!" She proclaimed, hastily reaching into her pocket and yanking out said keys. "That's right! I told you to put them there so I wouldn't forget." She giggled. "Silly me!"

_And yet every morning we still had the same conversation._

I wisely kept that comment to myself, slipping into my grey trench coat and coiling a burgundy scarf around my neck.

We left the hotel after mom nearly forgot her purse in the bathroom (I grabbed it on the way out), had to adjust her bra twice (it was a size too small), changed her underwear ("who knows, I might get lucky!"), reapplied her lipstick (unnecessary), and nearly lost her eyelash again, stepping out into the frigid Japanese weather with matching grimaces. The cold seemed to pass straight through our clothing, freezing limbs and burning cheeks.

"It's _cold_!" Mom whined, stating the obvious. She clutched at my arm, burying her face in the space between my neck and shoulder when a particularly strong wind nearly knocked us both off balance.

Her outrageously styled hair nearly gagged me, and I reared my head back, a prickle of irritation creeping its way through my chest and lodging itself there. It took practically all my self-control not to give her the accusing look I so desperately wanted to. And perhaps maybe even shoving her away from me.

It was _her_ fault we were even here in the first place!

I mean, who schedules an impromptu trip to Japan in the middle of the school year simply to get on a man's good side?

My _mom_, that's who.

Nevermind that your daughter was encroaching upon very important midterms and finally starting to make some progress in the friend department.

But there was really no point in focusing on that now. What's done is done.

We walked briskly through the parking-lot, spotted the rental car, and slipped eagerly inside. The leather felt like ice beneath my body, and I immediately reached forward to crank on the heater. Mom blasted pop music as we drove along, singing rambunctiously off-key along with the radio as she simultaneously painted her toenails and steered with her ankles. At one point she attempted to get me to sing along—_C'mon Neely, live a little!_—but I merely arched a single brow at her, stuffing my earphones into my ears praying we made it there in one piece.

We arrived at the museum nearly thirty minutes late for the seminar, Mom having to flirt with two Japanese policemen to get out of a ticket. One look at her tits nearly spilling out of her blouse, a few sultry words, and a seductive pout and we were Scott-free.

We parked in a handicapped space, Mom complaining that those 'God-forsaken heels' were already killing her feet. It didn't excuse her taking the spot from someone who might actually potentially need it, but I knew there was no reasoning with the woman. In her mind she was justified.

I sighed, mentally preparing myself to see my mother flashing more Japanese law-enforcement.

_A typical fifteen year old probably would have been traumatized_, I couldn't help thinking sardonically, only to come up short, realizing I _wasn't_ the typical fifteen year old. I carried a _pocket-watch_ for pete's sake!

Most would describe me as an 'old soul'—in other words, a polite way to classify someone as dry or boring.

My entire body came to an excruciating halt.

_Wait..._

Then there, in the middle of a Japanese museum parking-lot, I had a life-altering epiphany.

I was _boring_.

My breath seemed to leave me as it registered, but it was true. I had no friends. No social life. Hell, my own mother even got more action than I did.

My entire existence was completely and utterly _dull_.

And if that wasn't depressing I didn't know what was.

I didn't get to dwell on the thought for much longer however, for mom was calling me from where she stood in front of the museum's entrance. _Loudly_.

The pot-bellied security guard was shooting her a perturbed look, and I grumbled, trailing resignedly after her before we were both banned.

Little did I know, someone was trailing after me as well.

* * *

"Why do Japanese sumo-wrestlers shave their legs?" Westley asked as we hung around an exhibit that showcased twin matching swords. I stifled a groan, turning my gaze to the peculiarly curved blades behind the glass.

After the seminar Mom had practically sprinted to his side, giving him a sloppy kiss he grinned at, before yanking her face back to his for a deeper one that left the rest of the room undoubtingly _very_ uncomfortable.

When they pulled apart Mom introduced us, Westely smiling tightly as his gaze met mine.

"Oh, Judy..." He faltered, looking mildly adjitaed, "You didn't tell me you had a _kid_."

Mom, shrugged, caressing a loving hand through his hair.

"Oh _puh_-lease." She scoffed, waving a dismissive hand in my direction. "Neely's practically an adult."

_I didn't realize fifteen classified as an adult nowadays. _

Westley didn't seem to think so either, if the skeptical look he gave her was any indication. But he was soon distracted as Mom latched onto his arm, pressing her boobs against his bicep and insisting to meet his fellow historians.

_Which leads us to now..._

Me totally tuning him out in favor of the _much_ more interesting twin blades.

Upon closer inspection not only were they gorgeous, but deadly, with unnaturally sharp edges and unique designs of what appeared to be fire emblems engraved into the dark handles. I leaned closer, attempting to get a better look when Mom elbowed me in the side.

_Um, ow?_

I winced, snapping my attention back to Westely and his colleagues.

"So you can tell them apart from the feminist!" He cracked, and he, Mom, as well as the men surrounding him exploded with laughter. I noticed not a single one of them were Japanese, and what probably made the joke so side-splittingly hilarious.

_Not_.

I averted my gaze back to the swords, watching curiously as an elderly man came to stand before them. He was fairly tall, just grazing six feet, with greying hair and a long, well-kept beard. He was dressed in strange robes the color of blood, a braided, gold sash holding them together at the waist.

I watched as he reached a weathered hand out towards the swords, caressing the glass divider tenderly, almost reverently, and smiled.

My breath caught.

He was smiling.

At _me_.

And I could only stare wide-eyed as a knowing look flittered across that aged face, then in a swirl of silk he was heading out the door.

_What the—?_

"Wes you are _so_ funny!" My mother shrilled, turning to me with a wide grin, "Isn't he funny Neely?"

But under that smile I knew was a warning.

'_You better agree_.'

I eyed the man in question, taking in his too-tight jeans, strategically mussed blond hair, and faux-fur coat. He was attractive and knew it, an observation I had picked up when he continually snuck glances of himself on on the monitor and smirked conceitedly throughout his speech.

_Total douche._

"What are those swords?" I asked instead, ignoring the dirty look she sent my way. I doubted asking the man about his profession would do much damage. Besides, that elderly man had definitely piqued my curiosity.

_Just why had he looked at me like that anyway?_

_And why didn't it freak me out?_

Westely snorted.

"Oh, _those_ old things?" He barely spared the swords a glance, eyes instead trained intently on my mom's chest. He licked his lips. "Apparently they belonged to some emperor a long time ago who would disguise himself and use those swords as weapons."

_Emperor?_

I was immediately intrigued, eyes snapping back to the blades with awe.

"_How_ long ago? _What_ emperor? _Why_ was he disguising himself?" I asked in quick succession, voice taking on a somewhat desperate quality. For some inexplicable reason I just had to know where the swords came from, who owned had owned them, _everything_. And it must've shone in my expression because Westley took a step back, eying me warily.

"Look, kid—" he started.

I frowned.

"Neely." I corrected him.

He rolled his green eyes.

"_Whatever_." He stated rudely, "That's _all_ I know about the things okay? I majored in the Feudal era so I know nothing else. If you wanna know so badly there's a library downtown with a bunch of old books kids your age might be interested in."

He said 'kids your age' with such contempt it was wonder his face didn't melt off, and I wondered just how he expected to date a woman with a teenage daughter when he seemingly couldn't stand teenagers.

_Not that it mattered,_ my mind reminded me. Soon he would just be another one of my mother's countless exes.

He went back to talking to Mom after that. Well, staring at her boobs. The man couldn't be subtle to save his life, not that mom seemed to mind.

His colleagues were whispering amongst each other, and I caught a few 'nice tits' and 'sexy's' accompanied with leers. Not surprising.

Perverts hung with perverts I would assume.

Westely accompanied us back to our hotel later that evening, and I wasn't naive that I didn't realize what that meant. So as soon as they locked themselves away in my mother's room, I blasted the radio and turned on the television full volume.

Looks like Mom was 'getting lucky' after all.

I spent the rest of the night trying not to puke.

* * *

I awoke long before Mom and Wesley did. I jumped out of bed, quickly freshened up, and wrote Mom a quick note before heading down to the lobby to hail a taxi.

I was taking Westley's advice and heading to the library downtown.

_Wherever the hell that was._

There were a few streets listed in English, but it was still fairly difficult to navigate myself through the city. At one point I was pretty sure I was lost, but somehow managed to run into a few english-speaking shopkeepers that pointed me in the right direction. By the time I finally arrived on the library's front steps it was nearly 3 p.m.

I checked my phone for any missed messages only to find not a single call. Mom was probably too busy getting lucky with Westley to even notice I was gone.

Sadness threatened to creep into my chest, and I vehemently stomped it down, stalking through the double doors with determination.

The librarian unfortunately didn't speak English, merely giving me quizzical looks when I attempted to ask for direction, and I was left to my own devices.

Luckily for me, my own devices were pretty damn good.

I spent hours decoding Japanese history books to English using my phone (_Why didn't I think of this before?_), not finding anything that mentioned an inkling about an incognito emperor and his twin swords. I was beginning to think Westley had made the whole thing up just to get me out of the house when a lone book caught my eye.

It was settled a little ways away from the rest of them, balanced on a tall brass stand with a glass covering. The spine was made of some sort of animal skin, held together with blue and brown tribal beads. It looked acient, like a relic of some sort, and I instantly found myself drawn to it.

_What in the world?_

I crept closer, seeing strange patterns written across the front in a pubescent scrawl.

I yanked my phone out of my pocket, swiftly copying the characters I saw.

_The Legend of the Avatar: The Last Airbender, _it translated.

_"_A...va...tar.." I repeated slowly, confused_. Like the little picture you put on an Internet profile? _And what the hell is an airbender?

Curiosity was nibbling away at my insides, and despite fearing I might've been risking serious jail-time —I removed the glass anyway, shooting furtive glances over my shoulder to make sure no one was watching.

They weren't.

As soon as the book was in my hands a feeling of giddiness swept through my bones, making me feel my age for the first time in well..._ever_.

I flipped it open, seeing several paragraphs of writing and random dates scrawled across the pages. _A diary_, I realized, and eagerly translated the first entry.

_Water. Earth. Fire. Air. My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace when the Avatar kept balance between the Water Tribes, Earth Kingdom, Fire Nation, and Air Nomads. But that all changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the Avatar, master of all four elements, could stop the ruthless firebenders. But when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed and the Fire Nation is nearing victory in the War. Two years ago, my father and the men of my tribe journeyed to the Earth Kingdom to help fight against the Fire Nation, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the Avatar was never reborn into the Air Nomads, and that the cycle is broken. But I haven't lost hope. I still believe that somehow, the Avatar will return to save the world._

I was speechless. Just who's diary was this? Who was this mysterious Avatar? And controlling the _elements_? It was all so bizzarre—and I needed to find out more.

I had flipped to the next page when a feminine screech cut through the air, startling me so badly the diary flew out of my hands a skidded across the floor.

"Oi!" The librarian had caught me, her face twisted in anger as her eyes zeroed in on the now ruined diary. The binding had come apart upon impact, papers strewn every which way.

_Shit_.

I was running before I even realized what I was doing, heart in my throat as I heard screeching and footfalls following after me. The few occupants that were inside stared openly, watching in amusement as a five-foot eight American girl was chased by a tiny woman half her size through the library.

The cold air hitting my skin felt like paradise, and I was nearly grinning as I tore off down the sidewalk, leaving the whole situation behind me—

Or so I thought.

"You are being charged with the distruction of an ancient artifact, please surrender or risk being charged with police evadement." An accented voice ordered over a speaker.

_Oh no._

I could only watch in absolute horror as sirens came to life in the streets, Japanese and English voices mingling and telling me to stop.

_Like hell._

If I was arrested Mom would most likely leave the country without me. Hell, it was bordering on 4 p.m. and she _still_ hadn't called.

I ended up cutting down the nearest ally, running for what seemed like hours before resting in the rural part of town. I gasped for breath, crouching between some discarded cardboard boxes behind an old shrine. I was hungry, and scared, and cold, and miserable, wishing desperately that this entire day was a dream and any second now I'd wake up in my plush hotel bed.

That's when I saw _him_.

The old man from the museum. He was wearing the same crimson robes as yesterday, the extravagant material and his regal stance looking out of place in the dirty, abandoned alley. His eyes met mine, a strange golden brown that seemed to pierce through my soul, and smiled that knowing smile from before.

_Again?_

And then he was leaving and I couldn't take it anymore. I just had to know why this strange man I'd never seen before yesterday was smiling at me. What did he know? Did he know the police were looking for me? Was I just going batshit _insane_?

I jumped to my feet.

"Wait!" I called after him.

He kept walking.

"Wait!" I yelled but he was moving as if I hadn't even spoken, rounding the corner to the shrine.

I chased after him, rounding the corner just in time to see him enter the shrine—then watched the entire structure burst into flames.

No.

I couldn't believe it.

_No_.

I didn't get to ask him yet!

I had to _know_.

And apparently that was all the reasoning I needed to rush in after him.

Looking back, I wasn't proud of my actions. I was obviously feeling desperate and hysterical and couldn't think straight.

Not to mention dying in a fire hurts like _hell_.

It was the dumbest moment of my former life, yet I must admit that if it wasn't for that one stupid mistake I wouldn't be here.

I'd probably be in a Japanese jail rotting away.

_This_ is where my new life began.

* * *

**A/n: well? What do you guys think of Neely so far? I would appreciate some feedback from you all. Next chappie includes Sokka, Katara, and Gran Gran so look for it!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: I'm happy so many of you seem to like Neely! She has the same name as my niece and I always thought it was adorable. Big hugs to all of you who have favorited and reviewed, it really does mean a lot to me to get feedback, and I hope you continue to do so!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own ATL****A. Wish I did though.**

**Fun fact: I've been told that I resemble Katara from ATLA on numerous occasions. Which is weird considering my mom's black and my dad's half Irish. Plus my eyes are brown. To each their own I suppose.**

**Enjoy the chappie!**

**(again, I apologize if you get multiple email alerts)**

* * *

Throughout the world there are numerous theories and speculations on how it feels to die.

Some believe in a gradual encroaching darkness that that encases you from all directions until you cease to exist amongst the living. Others insist on a sudden, blinding flash of light that snatches you from this world.

Naturally, I can only only speak from my own experience, which is nothing like either previously mentioned—mind you.

It all started with _pain_.

Mind-numbing, body-crippling, agony as the smoke filled my lungs and watered my eyes. I'd been foolish, I'd known the moment I entered the building, yet couldn't find my way out. My sense of direction had been skewed in mere moments, and I could only feel around blindly as my head began to cloud from lack of oxygen and my eyes blinded from all the ash and debris.

I was almost happy I couldn't see, that way I couldn't watch as my flesh melted away from my bones and charred like a human turkey.

I could however, _feel_ it, and smell it too, the putrid stench of burning flesh—_my_ burning flesh—causing my stomach to churn and revolt. I sobbed, wet angry tears dribbling down my face as I was left in a burning building to die alone.

My mind raced as I felt my body begin to numb, my nerves singed beyond repair, curled in on myself as fire danced and popped all around me. I thought about my mom. And Westley. And that old man. It was all _their_ fault.

Anger pulsed through my veins, and as my last breath left me I could only manage a bitter, desolate laugh.

* * *

Koi-fish.

That was the first thing I saw when I opened my eyes.

I was staring up at them as they swam in lazy circles above me. One was white, a black mark marring its forehead, and its companion the exact opposite. They were beautiful, always circling, the moon shining in the circle between them and causing the water to be illuminated with an unearthly glow.

_Tui and La_, my mind supplied suddenly, and I was stunned to wonder how I even knew that.

That soon left my mind however, as the fish began to rotate faster, and faster still , until there was nothing but a black and white swirling vortex, pulling me in despite my thrashing.

_Balance_, a voice whispered, _there must be balance_.

I could only watch in horror as I was consumed.

* * *

When I next opened my eyes I was no longer underwater, but rather a desolate landscape of rock and dead, gnarled foliage. Fog encased me from all directions, and as I looked down I was shocked to see my entire body encased in the same unearthly glow from the water.

"What in the world...?" I trailed off, confusion marring my features. _Was I dreaming?_ Or was this the afterlife?

My head whipped around, searching for someone, _anyone_. There was no way I was alone here...was there?

Almost on cue skittering came from my left, and I whirled around, just missing the edge of something as it ducked into a dark cavern.

I frowned. _What was that?_

"Hello?" I called hesitantly. My voice vibrated through the landscape like echoes, and I flinched, not expecting it.

No answer.

A lot unnerved, and moderately fearful, I edged away from the cavern—_who knew what the hell was dwelling in there_—not stopping until my back touched the bark of a giant barren tree. Its roots were long and twisty like arms, it's trunk marred and bruised to resemble a grotesque face.

I blanched.

Yeah, not creepy at all.

"Where the hell _am_ I?" I whispered to myself, only to yelp at the sound of more skittering, this time closer.

"Interesting..." A raspy voice hissed, causing the hairs on the back of the my neck to stand stiff, "Very..._interesting_."

My heart lodged itself in my throat as the owner of the voice revealed itself, beady eyes gazing into my own with fascination. I could only stare back in terror.

_Oh my God._

There was a giant centipede before me. A giant centipede with a _human_ face. Nervous sweat trailed down my temples as I imagined just _how_ the creature had obtained said face.

Sensing my fear, the creature smirked, coiling its long body around the tree I was leaning against, placing its face mere feet from my own.

"A human..." It rasped, almost in amusement, "What brings you to the realm of Koh?" Its grin stretched, "Did you get lost?"

My vocal cords refused to work, and I could only nod helplessly. _Realm of Koh? Where the hell was I!_

Suddenly, the face was different, now a beautiful woman with long, dark hair.

"You don't smell evil," it mused, voice now strangely feminine, "But no matter."

One of its spindly appendages lifted my chin and I cringed. I never did like bugs.

"Pretty face." It purred, caressing my cheek, "I think I shall add it to my collection."

_Collection!?_

Panic welled up inside me, and I screamed. _Loudly_.

Surprised by the sudden burst of noise, the creature reared back, face morphing to that of a grimacing man.

I took the opportunity to run, trying to put as much distance between me and the vile creature as possible.

_I swear that thing is what nightmares are made of._

"Insolent little girl." It growled, then the sound of skittering was at my back.

_Oh god. Oh god. Oh god._

It was gaining on me, I could feel its presence closing in, it's breath stirring my hair. I forced myself to stop as I realized I was approaching the edge of a cliff, and whirled around to see Koh, now adorning the face of a green-eyed owl, leering down at me.

"Nowhere left to go." It squawked.

My eyes leapt to the cliff at my back, contemplating.

_Well, if I'm already dead..._

I turned, and jumped.

I could hear Koh screaming as air rushed past my ears, watching as the enraged face of a baboon gazed down at me as I fell further and further away.

And then I see the old man from the museum, riding atop a giant red..._dragon?_

_At this point I'll just go with anything._

The majestic beast took a sudden nosedive, aligning itself just below my falling form. I landed on its back with a startled 'oof!' clutching my chest as all the air was forcibly knocked from my body.

"Hold on tight." The old man instructed in a strange language, yet somehow I understood him perfectly. I understood his warning a moment later when the dragon took for the sky with a powerful beat of its wings, leaving me clutching for dear life.

_Holy shitcakes!_

We passed Koh as we ascended, and I could only stare as he stared back at us, a knowing look on his now human face that made my skin crawl.

I shivered.

That was _way_ too close.

_But now what?_

My eyes wandered to the old man's back. He sat atop the dragon with perfect posture, long grey hair billowing elegantly in the wind. What appeared to be a small crown was perched on his head, and my eyes widened when I recognized the same fire emblem there as the ones on the blades in the museum.

Just who _was_ he?

"You must be wondering why you're here." He spoke, and I frowned. He couldn't read my mind, could he?

Because that would be very unpleasant.

"Yes..." I answered slowly, then more boldly, "And where exactly is _here_ anyway? That _thing_ back there tried to take my face!"

The old man turned, golden eyes glimmering as he patted the space beside him near the dragon's head.

"Come. Sit." He instructed, and I could feel my face twisting. That did _not_ answer my questions.

Regardless, I slowly maneuvered myself towards him, plopping into the spot he indicated before leveling him with an expectant look. An amused smile touched his lips that I did not appreciate one bit, but kept my irritation to myself. I didn't need him kicking me off the dragon for that face-stealing freak to find me again.

"Have you heard of the terms yin and yang?" He asked. I frowned slightly, but nodded. I really didn't see what that had to do with anything, yet listened attentively.

The old man seemed to sense my skepticism, but didn't comment on it.

"They represent the balance of the world—the good _and_ the bad." He continued, gazing out into the scenery. The sun seemed much too close, yet my skin didn't feel even the slightest hint of heat. _Weird_.

The old man's mouth pressed into a thin line, a rather nostalgic expression flitting across his face. He stroked his beard absently.

"But when that balance is damaged, the world is thrown off kilter, and something is needed to right it again."

He met my eyes.

"_That_ was the Avatar's responsibility, to restore balance to the world." My breath caught. _Avatar_, like what was written in that diary in the library!

His expression turned pained.

"_My_ responsibility" he revealed. "...that I failed."

My entire body went completely still. But that could only mean...

He nodded at my unasked question.

"Indeed." He agreed solemnly. " _I_ am the Avatar you read about. The one that disappeared. My name is Roku."

_Roku_.

"But why?—" I started only to be cut off by a regretful looking Roku.

"Because I made a major mistake." He admitted, "I was too indecisive and spared a life I shouldn't have." His golden eyes bored in mine, and I reared back at the intensity, the desperation. "That's where you come in Neely."

_Me?_

I could only gape at the man like he'd sprouted two heads. Which actually wouldn't have been so far-fetched considering what's happened already.

"Me?" I breathed. "What have _I_ got to do with any of this?"

This was _insane_! It had to be a dream. Any second now I'll wake up in my hotel bed.

_Any_ second now...

Nope, not happening.

"Yes." He answered, "You must stop Aang from making the same mistake I did. Don't let him spare Ozai's life. It will have dire consequences."

_Aang? Ozai? Was I supposed to know these people?_

I exhaled, running a shaky hand through my wind-blown hair.

"Look, Roku—" I began, shifting nervously, "I understand you have a huge dilemma or whatever, but I'm just not cut out for all this supernatural stuff. I'm just a normal girl, I didn't _ask_ for any of this!"

The look he gave me could have melted stone, and I found myself cowering back from it.

_What? All I stated was the truth!_

"You haven't realized it, have you?" He asked, and I could only stare blankly at him. Realize _what? _Geez this guy sure was cryptic. "You chose this the moment you chased after me. The moment you entered the shrine you had chosen to leave your old life behind. There is _no_ going back."

I was dumbfounded. _No going back? _But what about my mother? Sure she made me angry, but I _still_ loved her. How would she survive without me?

Roku's aged face softened sympathetically.

"I'm sorry Neely, but you died in that fire. You're in the spirit world now."

My heart clenched. _No_. So I was stuck here forever?

"You do have the opportunity of a second chance however," he proposed, "If you _choose_ to take it."

I met his eyes.

"What if I can't do it?" I whispered, "What if I can't find this 'Aang' you speak of."

He smiled.

"Leave the semantics to me."

* * *

Cold. Numb. _Wet_. My entire body wracked with tremors as I lay face-down in what I assumed was snow. I scowled to myself as I remembered the events that led up to this.

I was riding with Roku atop his dragon when he placed a hand on each of my temples, a spiraling heat coursing through my bones and leaving me shaken. I gasped, pulling away with wide eyes at the sensation.

"_A gift_." He had said, "_To help you through this endeavor_."

And then he had promptly shoved me off.

Of the dragon.

Thousands of feet in the air.

If I could have screamed I would have been cursing him the entire way down.

And now I lay in the middle of any icy wasteland, my entire body numb with cold.

_Was I going to die again?_

That would totally suck, considering I had just gotten back _alive_.

But then a new sensation swept through me. A foreign, tingling warmth that flowed through my blood and warmed my muscles. It was like a mini fire was ignited in my chest, and I could only sigh in relief as I realized, just maybe, I would make it.

Crunching footsteps alerted me to someone's approach, and I stiffened as a shadow fell over my curled-up form. A gasp, heavy breathing, and then...

_**Poke.**_

_**Poke.**_

_**Poke.**_

"Ugh..." I groaned in pain as a blunt object is prodded repeatedly against my skull.

Okay, so dying in a fire is bad, waking up in an icy wasteland was worse, but being poked repeatedly in the head is where I absolutely _must_ draw the line.

"Do you _mind?_" I hissed, squinting up at the individual. The sunlight was too bright for my tired eyes, and I couldn't make out more than blue winter gear.

"Umm...I think it's alive!" The voice was masculine, and seemed to be directed at another person I couldn't see.

_No shit_, I couldn't help thinking sarcastically, _and I resent being called an 'it'!_

"Oh my Agni!" A feminine voice answered, then more crunching footsteps as another shadow fell over me, "but how?"

"_Fire_-bender." The boy growled with such hostility I was left puzzled. What was a 'Fire-bender'?

"Can't be." The girl answered, "Look at her eyes. They're _greenish_."

I still couldn't see either of them, a fact that greatly frustrated me since they apparently could see me quite clearly.

"Could be a hybrid." The boy muttered, and the distaste and suspicion in which he spoke about me was really starting to grate on my nerves. _What did I ever do to him?_

Hell, I didn't even _know_ him.

"We need to help her Sokka!" The girl exclaimed, sounding as fed up as I felt, and for the first time, addressed me.

"Can you stand?" She asked kindly.

I frowned, attempting to do as she asked, and succinctly passed out cold.

Well, I guess that answers _that_ question.

* * *

I came to at the feel of gentle fingers running through my hair. The action was soothing, yet mildly uncomfortable, since I'd never had someone touch me such familiarity. I forced my eyes open, seeing the face of a pretty dark-skinned girl hovering above me, cerulean eyes glazed as she continued to run absentminded fingers along my scalp.

She didn't seem to notice I was awake yet, and I took the opportunity to scrutinize her. She looked around my age, if not a little younger, with strange hair loops dangling around her face and a long braid running down her back. Her entire outfit consisted of blue—like the strangers from before.

_Was she one of the people that found me?_

"Um...what are you doing?" My voice sounded rusty from disuse, and the girl jumped, her eyes comically wide.

"Sorry!" She apologized, blushing profusely as I blinked up at her. "I didn't realize you were awake!"

I frowned. That still didn't answer my question. I opened my mouth to point this out when she was suddenly on her feet and across the room.

"I'll go tell Gran Gran and Sokka you're awake!" She exclaimed in a hurried jumble of words, and practically fled the scene.

I was left to stare at the spot the strange girl was just moments before.

_Okay..._

I gazed around the room, noting the tribal decor and fur rugs lining every inch of available flooring. The blanket covering me was absurdly soft, and I ran my fingers through the white fur with wonder.

Where _was_ I?

I slipped from the bed, toes automatically sinking into the plush flooring. I was wearing a floor-length blue gown, and my hair was a wild, curly disarray around my head.

I noticed a brush adoring a wooden dresser and made towards it, setting to detangle the monstrosity atop my head.

_How did her fingers not get caught?_

Voices sounded from just outside and I froze, watching as the girl returned with an elderly woman and teenage boy in tow.

"I see you're awake child." The woman observed warmly, and I could only nod. They really were a striking bunch. I'd never seen so many people their complexion with such bright eyes. The contrast was nearly mesmerizing.

"Everyone here calls me Gran Gran." She introduced, then gestured to the teenagers flanking her on either side. "My grandchildren are the one's who found you the other day."

_The other day? How long was I out?_

She cut her wizened eyes at the boy, _Sokka_, my mind remembered, and I felt irritation creeping into my chest when he gave an annoyed huff, blue eyes rolling skyward. _Rude much?_

"I'm Sokka." He stated plainly, arms crossed. It was clear he wanted nothing to do with me.

_Well that makes two buddy._

"Sock-o..." I repeat, purposefully butchering his name. He scowls.

"Sokka!" He proclaims, arms waving frantically for emphasis, "Not Sock-o!"

"And I'm his sister Katara." The girl introduces with a smile.

"Katara." I recite perfectly and Sokka scoffs.

"Oh, but you say _her_ name perfectly." He grumbles. "It's longer than mine too."

I ignore him. I may or may not have been holding a minor grudge against him for nearly giving me brain damage and treating me like a disease.

"What's your name?" Katara asks, and I notice she and her grandmother seem to be stifling their giggles. Something that Sokka does _not_ seem to appreciate if the dirty looks he sends them are any indication.

I smile.

"Neely." I answer, and she beams.

"Welcome to the Southern Water Tribe Neely."

* * *

**a/n: let it be known that I absolutely _adore_ Sokka, but he can be a bit of a jerk sometimes. Especially at the beginning of the series. Next chapter has Neely settling into the Water Tribe, and perhaps the meeting of a little bald airbender. Stay tuned!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: quick thank you to those that have reviewed and favorited this story so far, Im happy you enjoy it.**

**Also, I apologize if you receive multiple alerts, I've been testing a few things out to fix bugs**

**Disclaimer: I do not ATLA, if I did, it would have taken centuries to complete. **

**Seriously.**

**I have like zero free-time these days.**

**Enjoy.**

* * *

Sokka wasted no time vacating the area, shooting us all dirty looks before slipping out in a huff. Gran Gran gave me an apologetic look, before slipping out after him. I watched him go with a frown, still irritated by his unfounded dislike of me. The feeling didn't last long however, for soon my vision was filled with an array of blue and white as a soft bundle was shoved into my arms.

_What the..._

I blinked, peeking over the mountain of fabric to see a beaming Katara staring at me.

"Well?" She asked, smile never wavering, "Aren't you going to put it on? It gets pretty cold outside, and I doubt you'll be comfortable in just a nightgown."

Apparently I was still a bit sluggish from sleep, because I was having difficulty processing her words.

"Outside?" I echoed stupidly, giving the clothing a peculiar look.

Katara didn't seem to notice my floundering, or if she did, didn't let on, simply helping me out of my gown and into the warm parka, snow-pants, and boots. I felt a bit self-conscious with her helping me change—I wasn't exactly a supermodel—but her blue eyes weren't the least bit judgmental, and I soon relaxed a bit.

Somehow, her demeanor seemed almost...motherly.

_Far more motherly than my mom, that's for certain._

The thought smarted in my chest, and I hastily filed it away. I couldn't go back, so there was no use thinking about that irresponsible woman.

"There!" She exclaimed once we were finished. There was a triumphant gleam in her cerulean eyes, "Now you have the proper attire to brave the South Pole."

I managed a tentative smile, but on the inside I was full of twisting knots. _What was I supposed to do now?_ Roku told me to find 'Aang.' But what did he even look like? How was I supposed even to know if I found him or not.

Was he even a _he?_

I mean, was a description _too_ much to ask for? You'd think that while flying around on a legendary, fire-breathing beast he could have at least conjured up a photograph or something.

_Where did I even begin?_

Thankfully, my brain managed to scrape up some details.

_He's the Avatar_, my mind supplied, _if you can figure out who that is then you will find him._

I stole a glance at Katara, who was jabbering away about something as she straightened back the blankets on the bed. _Could she know?_

It sure as hell wouldn't hurt to ask.

"Don't mind Sokka," she said amicably, braid flopping as she flitted around the room. She frowned when one edge of the blanket refused to comply, tugging with a lot more force than was probably necessary. "He's just not use to outsiders. We don't get a lot of visitors here, and everyone's paranoid about the Fire Nation coming back."

_Fire Nation?_

I had an instant flashback of the diary entry from the museum.

_Long ago, the four nations lived together in harmony. But everything changed when the Fire Nation attacked..._

So it had already started. _But where was the avatar?_

Katara swore colorfully as the blanket stubbornly resisted her efforts, and I moved to assist her, holding it down as she finally tucked the edge away.

"Thanks." She exhaled, giving a grateful grin.

I shrugged.

"No trouble."

Silence permeated the room, and I shifted uncomfortably while Katara continued to straighten up around me. I wasn't used to socializing with people my own age much, and it unnerved me a bit, heart hammering away in my chest as I attempted to string my thoughts together. It was nearly ten agonizing minutes later when I finally worked up the nerve to ask the questions that were plaguing my mind.

"Ummm...Katara?"

Her head popped up immediately, expression inquisitive as she paused in her sweeping.

"Yes?"

I barely managed to resist the urge to wring my hands.

"What happened here?" I inquired hesitantly, then more strongly, "Why is the Fire Nation attacking? And why isn't the Avatar stopping them?"

Katara stilled, her entire body rigid. Her right hand flew to her throat almost reflexively, clutching at a strange pendant around her neck. Blue eyes blazed through my body like an electric bolt, and I got the distinct feeling I had said something very wrong.

But then the look passed, and she resumed sweeping, though a bit more forcefully than before.

"Where are you from Neely?"

The inquiry seemed casual enough, but the studious way in which she avoided my gaze spoke volumes.

_She was suspicious of me._

"California originally." I answered, and watched as her face scrunched in confusion.

"Never heard of it." She admitted and I shrugged. I didn't think she would have—considering it was currently hundreds of years before even the creation of the _United Stat_es.

"It's very far away." I offered as a feeble attempt of explanation. Because really, what _could_ I say?

_Hey there, I'm from the future, but I followed some old man into a burning building—died, ran from a creature that stole faces, rode atop an enormous dragon, and somehow magically got deposited here alive again._

Yeah, no. Not when even_ I_ was clinging to the miniscule chance this was all a bizarre dream and I would wake up back in Japan.

Thankfully she seemed to consider my answer, biting her lip as her eyes swirled with a myriad of emotion.

"Must be nice." She whispered, and I was left frowning at her cryptic statement as she continued her chores with vigor, signaling the end of the conversation.

Perhaps I should try to get my answers elsewhere.

* * *

"Why is everyone staring at me?"

After the rather uncomfortable conversation with Katara, I had kept my mouth shut, staring at the tribal designs decorating the walls and various furs covering the space. The air felt pinched and strained, and though Katara seemed to to be attempting to conceal her jerky movements, her expression was an open book.

She was upset.

_I _was the one to upset her.

And I had no idea why.

Gran Gran entering the tent was a welcome relief, and I had jumped to my feet at the sight of the elderly woman.

"Come." She insisted, "Breakfast is ready."

I wasted no time scrambling after her, sticking closely to her side as she led me through the small village. I felt pathetic clinging to an old woman that barely reached my shoulder, but couldn't help it. I was nervous.

It also didn't help that I seemed to be a spectacle around here.

Eyes followed our every movement, almost as if we were on display. Women paused in their chores, blue eyes varying in suspicion and curiosity. Children stopped mid-play, little mouths agape with awe and eyes comically wide. I even saw a little boy peering from behind a tent, but as we made eye contact he squealed, ducking out of sight.

I knew they didn't get very many visitors around here, but _this_ was ridiculous. And frankly, a little creepy.

I had told Gran Gran as much and she laughed. She actually _laughed._ Like everyone gaping at me like King Kong was humorous.

"Well, can you blame them child?" she asked, a bit of mirth lacing her words.

I frowned at her. _Um, yes?_

I wisely kept my mouth shut however.

Gran Gran gave me a knowing look, almost as if she knew exactly what I was thinking without me speaking a word. She led me to a brown tent at the corner of the village, pulling the flap back before motioning me inside. It was much larger than the tent I woke up in, with dozens of tables and chairs scattered about. People were congregated around each table, giggling and talking as they ate. An enormous fire pit was in the center of it all, several large pots boiling what appeared to be soup over the flames.

Again, I was the center of attention as I entered the room.

_Seriously?_

Everyone seemed to freeze mid-drink or bite, staring unabashedly as I fidgeted under their scrutiny.

"Gran Gran..." I hissed out of the corner of my mouth. I could feel my face heating from all the attention. "Isn't this a bit.._much_?"

_Was I not welcome here?_

She patted my back soothingly.

"Relax child." she insisted, "No one bears you any ill will here, they are simply just trying to place you."

_Place me?_

I shot her speculative look.

"What do you mean?"

At the table closest to us a woman's soup had slipped from her spoon, splashing back into her bowl and sloshing it all over her and the woman across from her. Not that either noticed, they were too busy gaping at _me_.

"You're quite ethnically ambiggous Neely." Gran Gran explained, tugging me towards the fire. She handed me a crude shaped bowl, filling it with the hot soup. It smelled strange, and I felt my nose crinkle. "The dark skin of the water tribes, the slender physique of the fire nation nobles, delicate features of an air nomad, and the eyes of earth-benders. You're an enigma like they've never seen before, they don't know where you fit. It _intrigues_ them."

Well, I _suppose_ that made sense.

There obviously wasn't much racial mixing during this era, so they've probably never encountered anyone like me before. I was like a new species of human.

But just because I understood where they were coming from didn't mean I could excuse their blatant staring. It was _still_ rude!

"Sokka!" Gran Gran called suddenly, and my entire body tensed. _This just gets better and better, doesn't it?_

Said boy was stuffing his face at a table towards the center of the room, surrounded by five small boys copying his every move. A table of preteen girls was at his right, nearly half a dozen pairs of blue eyes gazing at him dreamily. At his grandmother's call his head jerked up, and when he caught sight of me, he scowled.

_Terrific._

Against my will (seriously, I was digging my heels into the snow and everything) Gran Gran led me to his table, indicating I take a seat. I hesitated, not wanting to sit where I clearly wasn't wanted, but Gran Gran wasn't having any of it.

"You can sit here child." she insisted, taking my bowl from me and placing it on the table. "I'm sure my grandson will be the _polite_, _hospitable, kind,_ young man his parents and I have raised him to be."

She gave said polite, hospitable, kind teenager a sharp look, dark aura swirling off of her hunched form in deadly waves despite her homely smile.

"_Right_ Sokka?"

Shadows seemed to dance behind her eyes.

Sokka paled, grumbling around a mouthful of soup an obedient,

"Yes Gran Gran."

Suddenly she was normal again, smile wide as she proclaimed a cheery, "I knew you would." before walking off.

Sokka wouldn't look at me, but his little table-mates didn't seem to have a problem doing so. The little boys eyed me like a shiny new toy, watching my every subtle movement as it were the most exciting event of their lives. The girls at the next table were watching me too, the jealously evident on their faces as their gazes alternated between me and the object of their affection.

_For whatever reason. _

He was just a rude, surly boy in my opinion.

I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding, picking up my spoon and attempting to ignore the stares bombarding me from all directions as I took a tentative sip of the soup.

_**Blergh!**_

_It tasted like seaweed and dirty socks!_

Before I could control myself, I spat clear across the table, getting Sokka right in the face.

_Shit! Shit! Shit!_

Will the ground just open up and swallow me whole already?

_Or better yet, will Roku kill me again?_

Sokka sputtered as if he were drowning, while the rest of the room watched on in complete silence. My face flamed with mortification, and I could only squeak out a quick apology before fleeing from the scene.

* * *

Sokka hated me.

Of that I was one hundred percent certain.

It had been a week since the soup incident, and he had yet to speak or even _loo_k in my direction. Which was pretty ironic, considering I was the one supposed to be holding a grudge against _him_. Granted, we didn't really spend that much time in each other's company.

_Thank God._

Though I must admit the whole ordeal was pretty funny in hindsight. I mean I _spat_ in his _eye_. Like a movie or something. It was hilarious!

I dutifully made sure to avoid the soup after that however, not that it helped much.

I don't want to sound ungrateful or anything...but the food here was **terrible**.

_Fried Sea slug?_

_Grilled penguin blubber?_

_Alligator-whale jerky?_

_And just what the hell was an _alligator-whale _anyway?_

Each meal was like Fear Factor as I struggled to keep everything down.

I spent most of my days with Katara, helping her and the other women with their daily chores. The stares had lessened, although I still caught someone's eyes every once in a while, but overall they seemed to pity me.

_How did you make it to fifteen not knowing how to sew or cook?_

_You don't know how to skin an animal?_

_What has your mother been teaching you?_

Well apparently not much.

It was rather irritating when one of the other girls would shake their heads disbelievingly at me, but I suppose that was better than the alternative:being treated like a freak.

So each morning I awoke from the tent Katara and I shared, ate breakfast as far away from Sokka as possible, and helped with the tribal duties. All the while I had my eyes peeled for any clues of the Avatar's whereabouts. While hanging the clothes I would ask the other women questions about the state of the world.

"Our men left to help with the war." a woman named Samia had explained. She had two small boys."They've been gone for a while now and we miss them terribly."

I _had_ noticed the lack of men in the tribe. It consisted mostly of women and small children. Sokka was the only teenage boy in the entire village.

No wonder those girls were all over him, he was the only guy around.

I pinch of sympathy settled in my chest at the realization. _He was left behind._

I knew the feeling all too well, and I found my dislike softening slightly towards the prickly teen.

But just a _little_.

Katara and I had formed a tentative friendship over the course of those seven days. She would teach me how to sew and skin animals, while I taught her the different star constilations. I would let her braid my hair every morning in two plates on opposite sides of my head, and she let me hog all the blankets at night. It was peaceful. Impersonal.

But I didn't have a problem with that. We were better off not getting attached. I didn't plan to stay here for very long.

I was on a mission.

I _had_ to find the Avatar.

_Where are you Aang?_

* * *

Late one afternoon I was with Katara as usual, attempting to repair one of the rugs when the last person I ever expected to approach well, _did_.

"Hey Sokka." Katara greeted between stitching. Her eyes remained dutifully on her task as her brother approached. I bit my lip, peeking at him from behind my unruly bangs as I clumsily sewed another row. He usually didn't speak when I was nearby, so whatever he had to say must have been pretty important. He nodded at her greeting, ignoring me completely as he crossed his arms.

_Rude much?_

"Gran Gran wants us to go fishing this afternoon." he stated, keeping his eyes firmly trained on my companion, "We're running dangerously low."

Katara's fingers stilled, a weary sigh escaping from her lips.

"I can't." she protested, "All the rugs have to be finished before tonight. Its the first night of winter, there could be a blizzard and we can't afford any illness here Sokka, you _know_ that."

Sokka huffed, clearly frustrated with the situation as he ran a mittened hand down his face.

"And _you_ know I can't catch fish by _myself _Katara_._" he retorted, "I need someone else to hold the net and help me haul them in."

"But everyone is busy getting ready!" she quipped, "We have no one to spare!"

"Well what are we supposed to do then?" he barked, blue eyes narrowed.

Hers narrowed back.

_Uh-oh. _

I may not have had any siblings, but even _I_ knew an argument was about to ensue.

_Hopefully I wouldn't get caught in the crossfire._

with that thought in mind, I bowed my head, trying to blend into the scenery as I vainly attempted to sew without stabbing myself. Their words was getting progressively louder, and I knew it would only be a matter of time before they were outright screaming.

"How am _I_ supposed to know?" Katara was hissing, raising to her feet. Her words were clipped and challenging, and I felt a shiver skitter down my spine at the dangerous tone.

Sokka rolled his eyes, not affected in the least.

_The kid clearly possessed nerves of steel._

That, or he lacked self-preserverance.

In fact, to this day I _still_ wasn't one hundred percent sure.

Take now for instance, he was actually moving _closer_, almost as if he didn't register the murderous intent emitting off his sibling in thick, heady waves.

"Gee, I dunno..." he drawled sarcastically, mouth pinched, "Maybe it's because you're a huge _know-it-all!_"

She scoffed, hands perched on her slender hips as she glowered at him.

"And _you_ only think with your stomach!" she shouted.

"Well we can't _starve_. We need protein!"

"And we can't _freez_e either!"

I watched them volley insults back and forth, head darting from side to side as if it were a world-class tennis match.

"I swear you never think rationally Sokka!" Katara snapped, seeming beyond fed-up. She flung her arms up in clear exasperation.

"_Me?" _he exclaimed, voice the most high-pitched I'd ever heard it. He gestured pointedly at his temples. "You have two worms dangling from your head!"

Katara scowled.

"My _hair-loops_ have nothing tho do with this!"

"Yeah?" her brother fired back skeptically, "Well they look _stupid_."

"_You_ look stupid."

Okay, this has officially encroached into five year old territory. I honestly believed they forgot I was sitting there, as wrapped in their argument as they were. Both were red in the face, practically nose-to-nose, while white puffs of air escaped their mouths in time with their frantically rising chests. I noticed Sokka had a serious tick in his brow, while Katara practically vibrated the ground beneath her with her rapid arm gestures.

_Wait._

I watched, rapt as Katara's forgotten utensils bounced around the ice, cracks erupting across the surface with almost alarming intensity.

The ground was _actually_ vibrating.

I gasped, causing both siblings to look at me as I gazed at the ground wide-eyed.

"What's wrong Neely?" Katara asked. The vibrating ceased.

_What the?_

"T-the g-ground..." I stuttered, feeling self-conscious as both pairs of cerulean eyes stared at me as if I'd grown a third head. I wouldn't be surprised if I had. Nothing about my situation was normal.

"I-it was..." I stammered, attempting to string my thoughts together and failing miserably. "But now its not..."

They stared at me blankly.

I took a deep breath, ignoring my burning cheeks. _C'mon Neels, spit it out, you're being ridiculous!_

"The ground was shaking." I explained meekly. _See? Was that so hard?_

Realization flashed across their faces, and they traded furtive glances.

I frowned at the exchange.

_What was that about?_

"Well," Katara began, smiling sheepishly, "I'm a water bender."

* * *

**A/n: It's getting pretty long so I think I'll cut it here. What do you guys think so far?**

**Next chapter will be a little bit more bonding time with Neely and the water tribe siblings, and then we get to _finally_ meet our favorite little bald flying monk. Stay tuned!**

**And remember to review!**


End file.
